


We

by talea456



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Ichabbie Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 22:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7951624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talea456/pseuds/talea456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Premise: Internal dialogue (or diary entries, if you wish) from both Crane and Abbie’s perspectives set at certain times in season 2 and in an alternate season 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set sometime mid-season 2

 

**Her:**

We just click.  I know it.  Our level of honestly with one another and the respect we both have is a rarity in any age. Shit, I never thought I’d find it in my lifetime. I never got all that close with any boyfriends. They never could really handle my honesty. Always wanted me to be softer—thought they could turn me that way with their manliness. They were such idiots.

But, we…we just have to communicate with each other.  That’s it.  The communication is easy. Effortless. We don’t even use words most of the damn time, but we get it. We know what the other one is thinking. He is just as honest as I am. I once heard someone say meeting the right person is like coming home. I thought it was such a cliché, but I get it now.  That is what it’s like. I’m not waiting around for some guy to notice me. I don’t have a choice. It’s like I have to be here for him in whatever form he needs. I have a mission and someone to share it with and I will not walk away from him. Not now.

But then there’s Katrina.  I had hoped she would have been like me. Honest and smart and all that. That would’ve made his feelings for her easier to take, ya know? Like, okay, we would have been together but he happened to meet a woman just like me prior. If I saw him happy with someone else, I think I could take it.  Maybe I would step back and let the Witness thing be more of a job or something, but I could take seeing him happy with another me. Maybe it would mean I would meet another him.

He’s not happy, though. Not really. She’s manipulative. She turns on that little “damsel” thing that gets his heroic wheels spinning. She knows if she just acts helpless enough, he’ll come save her every damn time. Jesus! He’s an 18th century man. Raised on those stupid ideas that women need men to save them. She knows it. And she’s using it to keep him wrapped around her fingers. I wouldn’t be a happy with a marriage based in that and neither is he. Dammit. Now I have to watch my partner, my friend…hell, my damn soul mate…try to work shit out with this selfish woman. He’s not going to be able to do it. He knows what it means not to have to hide himself from me. He’s not going to be able to go back to some idealic, over romanticized 18th-century marriage where a man could easily spend his whole life never really knowing his wife and being happy and content with that.

She is his biggest weakness. I was right about that. She can get him to be reckless and stupid and fallin’ all over his damn self to save her in any situation. And I’m the one who nearly couldn’t leave Purgatory because some demon convinced me to take a damn drink just by using his face. Shit.

He knows. He’s got to know. That brain of his that just keeps thinking and seeing and remembering everything. The way he holds my hand. The way he held me when he almost died from drinking that poison. When I called him to Purgatory and we held each other just a little too long. The way he makes me laugh. Such a goofball. And the way he’s looking at me right now…

He knows. And he knows that I know. We just aren’t saying anything.  Saying it would make it real. Saying it would mean he’s not a good husband. He’s got to try with her. I know that. He made a vow and he’s got to try. A man of honor taking his promises seriously. That is sexy as hell. That’s my man. And that’s his wife. The woman who’s using his honor to her benefit.

My soul mate. With that woman. Goddamn it. I thought the apocalypse couldn’t get any worse.

—

**Him:**

I always felt Katrina was my moral superior. It was she, after all, who convinced me to join the colonial cause. I always strived to live up to her standard. In every action, thought, and word, I tried to deserve her admiration. Her approval.

I was happy…at least, I thought I was. When I awoke in this strange time, I thought she was long dead. When I learnt she was in purgatory, I did want to rescue her…but I didn’t. At least, not immediately. I was…distracted by my Witness duties. Oh, for God’s sake Ichabod, be honest with yourself! I was distracted…no…comforted by her presence. There was something about her…about us. I found myself thinking less of Katrina and more of her. She carried such heavy burdens and yet she was wise, intelligent, selfless, and honest. Above all else, she is honest. She can cut to the truth faster than faster than my old fencing master could swing a blade. She dazzles me. Making her smile is like winning a battle against the fiercest of demons. I would spend eternity keeping her demons at bay.

Curse it all! I am a married man. I am a happily married man. I cannot think of another woman like this. This is adultery. Betrayal. I may be angry and hurt at Katrina’s lies, but have I not been lying to her in return? I will not live a liar. I must do my best to rekindle what is lost between my wife and I. I must hold true to our wedding vows. Anything else risks my very honor. My character! Would I have her think I would betray her on some emotional whim? How could I look her in the eye if I did not at least try to honor and respect my wife?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set before and after evens in “Pittura Infamante”

******Her:**

I never even believed in that soul mate bullshit!  Now I’m sitting here getting my Mr. Darcy ready for a damn date with Caroline freakin’ Bingley. What the hell is my life now?

Shit. That thought was written on my face. At least he’s too flustered to read it correctly. What the hell has he done with these buttons?! Sigh.

I’m his rock. That’s why he wanted me here. He needed me to hold him steady through his doubts about Katrina. Look at him ranting. He looks so nervous and his posture is unusually stiff…even for him. He’s so damn cute.

… “if they are to be anything at all?” Damn. There it is. He actually said it out loud. And then I go and say what’s been on my mind about her compromising us with her lies. That’s about as real as it’s gotten between us in a while. We’re both struggling with this and we needed to say it.

There it is. Him looking flustered when he looks at her and solid as a rock when he looks at me. He smiles at my honesty…my whit. No man has ever smiled at my whit. They usually can’t take the bruised ego. Dammit. What were those lines that Carrie Fisher said in When Harry Met Sally? Something about “spending your life knowing that someone else is married to your husband?” That’s me. Getting my husband ready to go out on a date with his wife. I hate every part of this…

I will not pine for him. Not. Going. To. Do. It.

—

**Him:**

The date was…eventful; although I’m afraid not in the way that Katrina wished it to be. I was uncomfortable nearly the entire night. Katrina looked lovely, certainly, and she was very attentive before the evening took a turn for the worst. It was reminiscent of how we were at parties back in our original time.

That is what I am struggling with. My interactions…well, conversations with Katrina are polite. I had never realized before that is what they have always been. Just…polite. The world I was raised in, men were always polite to women. Husbands to wives, fathers to daughters. Yes, men would lose their tempers on occasion, but showing respect meant being polite. Even when we would disagree, Katrina and I maintained polite respect toward one another. I never once thought anything of it…until now.

With her, conversation is lively, engaging, mentally stimulating…arousing even (although I am ashamed to admit it). Above all, it is honest. It is straightforward. It is…easy. The meeting of two equal minds. We come from such different times and have an infinite number of different experiences and perspectives, yet we are the same. Two as one. She and I—we…

She came when I did not answer her call. No explanations were needed…we just clicked into place as we always do. The two Witnesses acting in unison. Powerful indeed. I missed her presence the entire night prior to her arrival. Must I resist it the rest of my life? A man cannot stand so divided against himself. But…

As a married man, yes. I must resist. I will resist. Katrina is my wife. I will honor that until death do us part.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her entry is set right as she is returning to the present time near the end of “Tempus Fugit."
> 
> His entry is set the day after the end of “Tempus Fugit.” Crane is still a bit traumatized, understandably and the tone of his internal thoughts reflect this.

**Her:**

Well, here I am. Traveling back from the 18th century. I would like to say I jumped through that portal to save the damn world again, but nope. I jumped because I knew Katrina was going to kill him and I can’t let that happen. Not ever.

I did learn some good things in all this, though. For one, he is cocky as hell in any time. And, more importantly, he trusts me. He didn’t know me, but he saw me and he trusted me. Right off…well, not right off, but he still got there. Franklin didn’t think he would, but he did. I know him. My man.

—

**Him:**

I had a choice. I chose her.

Katrina was killing her and…I chose her. I killed my wife to save her. Or did I kill the enemy to save my wife?

…I don’t know what kind of man that makes me. I chose her. I chose her. I chose her.

I will always choose her.

She is staying here tonight to watch over me. Make sure I eat. I will be okay. We will be okay. She is right. For now, I should rest.

Frank said something about finding a psychologist with which to speak—to process this. I will be okay. I will be okay. I chose her just as she chose me. We will be okay…in time.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during an alternate season 3. Crane did not leave Sleepy Hollow for 9 months in my version.

**Him:**

I was raised with a very specific idea of what marriage is. There were clear distinctions for what the husband was to be to his wife and she to him. Of course, a “good husband” could range anywhere from someone who “disciplines” his wife with violence to a doting, loving husband. It all depended on how a man interpreted his role of provider and protector of the family and family name. So, naturally, when it came to Katrina, I desired to be the doting husband for, at that time, adoration was how you showed respect for your wife.

I have come to realize, however, that all that doting, all the symbols of romantic affection I was raised upon truly only served to keep a husband and wife apart. It allows one to remain blind to who their spouse truly is. If your sole concern is to demonstrate your adoration, how are you left with anything except a fanciful ideal of who you believe your spouse to be?

I never saw her deception until it was revealed plainly and, had I remained in that time, I likely never would have known the depths of her selfishness. It was not true love that I felt for her, but more of a…what is that phrase used in this time? Puppy love? Yes. A self-sustained romantic attachment to the idea of a woman who never truly existed.

Katrina was my wife, but she was also someone who could never understand true selflessness and self-sacrifice. Katrina was driven by her own desires to such a degree she was willing to destroy time itself. That is not the wife I knew. Ergo, I never knew my wife. Not really.

She has helped me understand this. Not just from her words (those precious gems of truth she imparts with striking regularity), no…it is because of her entire being that I see how blind I was to what a true partnership of equals is.

She is the only true Witness. I laugh at this thought, but it is true.  I do not know if her uncanny ability to see the truth in all things is a gift given to her as a Witness or if it is the very reason she was chosen for this. I personally believe it is the later. In fact, I think my role in all of this is only to show her where to look. She is the one truly witnessing…seeing every ounce of truth in all things. I suppose I am just a tour-guide of sorts.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after my alternate season 3 finale.

**Her:**

Goddammit! Where are you, Crane? Why did you jump into that damn portal? I was right there! I was ready to go, but then you had to come and push me out of the way. Would love to find you but all the damn books I need are in some ancient language. Sure would be nice to have you around. Tell me where to look. Where do I look?

Shit. It takes me twice as long to figure out where to go without him around…and I don’t know if he has that long.

Come on, Abbie, think. Who do I know that can help with this? …Wait, wasn’t there some guy at the museum in town Crane had been talking to right before our mission? Maybe he knows something. I better call Jenny and Irving. Have them meet me there.

Hang in there, Crane. You’ve got to hang in there. For me. Please. I’m coming.

—

**Him:**

…No hint to help me out on this wall either. Sigh. She has probably already realized the gentleman at the museum can decode that book I found prior to our confrontation. I’m sure the answer to the way out must be in there somewhere…

I once said that it was through her eyes that I see myself most clearly. That has always been and will forever remain true.  She sees me…even when I cannot see myself. She sees the correct path and she dives onto it without hesitation. Indeed, placing myself in this strange land was something of a personal challenge! Getting to be the first to sacrifice for the greater good. It’s hard for me to beat her. Her mind is so much faster than my own.

I have to find a way back. I must get back to her. I know she will save me but I want the satisfaction of meeting her halfway…of helping her. I do not want her to be alone. Not again. Not ever. I do not wish merely to adore her or worship her. I simply wish to remain by her side as her equal in all things. Of course, remaining her equal is a challenge I find infinitely invigorating. She stimulates my every sense and every corner of my mind. She is like the oxygen my soul lives on. Instead of “keeping up with the Joneses” I’m striving to” keep up with the Lieutenant!” She would laugh if I said that to her. I can see her smile and hear her laughter now…her smell…

I must get back without delay. I must get back to her. I need to get back. I need…her.

—

  
_(A few days later)_

**Him:**

I arrived back in our world tired and confused. It took a few moments for me to recognize where I was and that I was back in our world. Miss Jenny and Captain Irving stayed for a short while before excusing themselves. At least, I think they excused themselves.  To be honest, I don’t quite remember them leaving. I was only able to focus on her. 

Her eyes, face, lips, smell, her smile, it was all there again in front of me. As soon as I was able to stand she collapsed into my arms…her head buried in my chest. We lingered like this for some time…although I do now know how long. Perhaps that is when Ms. Jenny and Captain Irving left?

During my time in the other realm, I had practiced a more elaborate declaration. I wanted to tell her that, apocalypse or no, Witness or not, it would be the greatest honor to be a permanent part of her life. To be her partner for life, if she would have me. I wanted to tell her that I see and understand her. All of her. But, it seems our bond goes beyond these florid declarations.

With her there, in my arms, I whispered, “I’m here, Lieutenant. I’m back for good.” There was a slight nod of her head against my chest as I continued, “Abbie, I love you. I will never leave you again.” That was when she looked up at me with her glorious eyes, took my face in her hands and…

I know many languages both ancient and modern, yet I have no words to describe the feeling of our lips touching. Even now, when I attempt to form my memory into words, I have none. I have just the memory of the world falling away, of time ceasing to be, and of all of existence disappearing. She was everything I could sense, see, smell, hear, touch. Her…We…Us. Two equal parts now become one.

Perhaps the myth of two souls separated is not such a myth after all. Perhaps the higher power that called us to Witness knew we were destined for each other. What I do know is this: The only heaven I shall ever know is at her side.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the series finale.

**Her:**

Here we are. Apocalypse averted and my man sitting here looking at me with those beaming heart-eyes of his. I thought my mouth would get tired from smiling so damn much, but it hasn’t yet.

I never, ever thought my life would be like this. I mean, I was always alone…or at least, I always felt that way. I used to see folks with families being all happy and smiling these big smiles. I wondered if they were faking it. Maybe some of them were, but for the ones that weren’t, I envied them.

I also wondered if their mouths hurt from all that happiness. I pretty sure the answer was nope. Yes, he makes me laugh so much my sides hurt most of the time, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face around him. Well, unless I need to give him “the look”—course, then that just starts us laughing all over again.

Here we are. Sitting beside each other in the park watching our daughter play. I started the tribulations alone and now, at the end I have a family. Damn. Like a real, complete family. My daughter has her aunt Jenny, uncle Frank, her totally sane mother, and her completely insane, colonial-clothes-wearing father. Why wouldn’t I be smiling all the damn time? I thought being a Witness was a curse. I so did not see this coming…all this joy in my life. This here is a twist ending that would put Mr. Shyamalan to shame.

I never asked for this. I never would have dared ask for this. My man, sitting next to me. Wiping my joyous tears off my cheeks even though his eyes are all welled-up too. And then we hear our daughter laugh as she goes down the slide…man, my sides hurt from all this laughter. 

If this isn’t heaven, then I don’t know what is.

Oh! We should totally stop by that new ice cream shop on our way home! I hear they have bourbon-pecan there. He’ll love that.


End file.
